


Going Home

by shslbrainrot



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Kaede Akamatsu - Freeform, M/M, POV Oma Kokichi, danganronpa - Freeform, in game v3, saiouma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslbrainrot/pseuds/shslbrainrot
Summary: Just some short, wholesome Saiouma :>
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> For the true 4d experience, play a piano rendition of Going Home by Antonin Dvorak when the song is mentioned in this fic!! Clair de Lune is also an oltion, right at the beginning of the story if you're committed

With heavy feet, Kokichi wandered the halls of the school. He was mentally exhausted by the events of the day, so he was trying to calm himself with a walk around the building, to no avail.

_ I should go to sleep…  _ he thought. It wasn’t particularly late, but meandering around these halls that perpetually trapped him certainly wasn’t making him any calmer. After discovering a body, going through a trial, and watching an execution in one day, everyone else was smart to retreat immediately to their rooms.

He was about to turn around to go find the dorms when he heard the faint sound of a piano. It wasn’t being played confidently — it was a few stray notes being played repeatedly as if someone was trying to figure out a melody. 

_ The only piano here is the one in Kaede’s lab, right?  _ Kokichi thought, perking up and continuing to walk.  _ So if she’s gone… who’s in there? _

Since the piano was quiet, it was clear that the lab mustn’t be far away. He turned a corner to see a large door with the design of a keyboard on the front of it. Soft, tentative piano notes floated out through a crack in the door.

_ Hm…  _ He approached the door and peered inside. What he saw was someone at the piano, staring down at the keys in front of them and attempting to play. A hat obscured their face, but it was obvious who it was.

_ Right. Shuichi.  _ Of course it was Shuichi. He’d been so torn up after Kaede’s death just a few hours ago, so it wasn’t a surprise to find him here. Though it was sort of sad to see him like this, even if Kokichi didn’t know him all that well.  _ I wonder what he’s trying to play… _

Kokichi stood and listened, leaning against the doorframe and peering inside. As Shuichi progressed further into the song, Kokichi started to recognize it, but he couldn’t place the name. It was slow and sad, which made sense, but it was also relaxing. He didn’t know how long he was there, almost mesmerized by the sound, but eventually, Shuichi looked up.

“O-oh…” Shuichi made eye contact with Kokichi through the gap in the door, only a few inches wide. His hat and hair hid most of his face, but it was evident that he was anxious.

“H-hey!” Kokichi straightened his posture, smiling in an attempt to show Shuichi that he wasn’t here to ridicule him. Usually, Kokichi would take this opportunity to tease him about his mediocre piano abilities but, as Shuichi lifted his head, Kokichi saw the tears that ran down his face. It probably wasn’t a good time.

Kokichi pushed open the door the rest of the way and walked inside. As he approached the piano, Shuichi averted his gaze and wiped his face with his sleeve. Kokichi gave no indication that he’d noticed as he sat down on the bench next to him.

“What are you playing?” he asked, looking at Shuichi’s hands, resting gingerly on the keys.

“Um, Cl-Claire de Lune,” he replied with a sniffle. “By Debussy.”

Kokichi looked at the sheet music that sat on the stand in front of them, unable to decipher almost any of its meaning. “I’m not sure if I’ve heard that before,” he said, though he knew he’d vaguely recognized the tune earlier. “How does it go?”

Shuichi paused, seemingly not sure how to respond to that question. “U-um, it’s — it’s like, uh…” 

He started playing it slowly with shaking hands. His left hand hovering over the keys, he only used his right to play the melody on the high end of the piano with his foot on the pedal to sustain the notes. As he started to grow more confident in his movements, he suddenly hit a wrong note and sharply lifted both hands away.

“Sorry, uh, that’s not — I messed it up.”

Kokichi furrowed his brow. “No, you’re pretty good, actually, for never having played before. That’s what I think, at least.”

Shuichi chuckled softly, the smallest bit of a smile on his face. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Kaede could probably play this entire song flawlessly…” He leafed through the sheet music in front of him, scanning his eyes over lines and lines of notes and staffs that neither boy could decipher. “I never got the chance to hear her, though.”

Kokichi watched the music on the paper flip by. “You can still learn it, though,” he offered. “She’d probably like that, right?” 

He looked up at Shuichi. Shuichi’s eyes were red and puffy from crying, accompanied by massive bags that betrayed how exhausted he really was. Kokichi truly felt bad for him. He couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling, though he had to admit he felt somewhat similar.

“Yeah, maybe…” Shuichi lowered his hands back to the keys. “Piano is pretty difficult, though.”

“Is it? I haven’t played it in years.” Kokichi looked back down to the keys in front of him.

Shuichi turned his head to look at him. “You’ve played piano before?”

Kokichi nodded, thinking back to when he was younger. “We all learned a bit of it when I was in elementary school,” he recalled. “I didn’t really retain any of the reading stuff, but I memorized one song. I wonder if I can still play it.”

“You should!” Shuichi’s tiny smile returned, slightly perking up.

“Hm.” Kokichi smiled as well, glad that Shuichi might be starting to feel a bit better. Usually, he probably wouldn’t want to play out of fear that he’d mess up, but he knew it would make Shuichi happy, or at the very least, distract him. He positioned his hands on the keys where he remembered that they needed to be for the song.  _ Going Home by Antonin Dvorak,  _ he recalled. 

Slowly, he started playing what he remembered. It started out contained in the keys he had right in front of him, but as the notes got a bit higher for one part, his arm bumped into Shuichi’s, who scooched away awkwardly to give Kokichi room. Kokichi giggled quietly, keeping his eyes on the keys. As time went on, the memory of the song came back to him, and the chords became more powerful under his fingers. He was brought back to when he was younger, comforted by the familiar song. He wondered if Shuichi felt as at peace as he did. The sound of piano notes always had a calming effect, didn’t it?  _ Even if it’s me playing it. _

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Kokichi hit the final notes, his foot on one of the pedals to suspend it in the air. He’d messed up a few times, but it was nothing too noticeable. As he retracted his hands from the keys, he noticed that Shuichi had reclaimed the space he’d left between them. Kokichi hadn't realized earlier, too distracted with playing.

“That’s the only one I know,” he said, breaking the silence and returning his hands to his lap. “I memorized it when I was younger because it was my favourite. I guess I still remembered it.”

He looked up for Shuichi’s response, only to get nothing. Shuichi was staring ahead, tears silently falling down his face and onto the keys.

“Sh-Shuichi?” Kokichi asked, his voice thick with concern.

Unable to stop himself, Shuichi hunched over and sobbed into his hands. High, clashing piano notes rang out as he hit them with his elbows and he leaned back sharply, startling himself. His shoulders shook as he struggled to regain his short-lived composure, and he pulled his hat down over the small portion of his face Kokichi could actually see. 

“I’m s — I’m sorry.” He sniffled and wiped his face hastily with the back of his hand. “I guess, just — I guess the song sort of… I don’t know…”

“Oh…” Kokichi hugged his arms over his stomach. “I get it. Sorry.”

Shuichi took a deep breath and sat back up, the waver in his voice beginning to fade. “N-no, it’s fine. Don’t apologize.”

Kokichi paused, not sure what to say next. His intention coming in here wasn’t to make Shuichi feel worse, but that’s what he’d done, and he felt guilty as he watched Shuichi wipe his tears from the piano keys.  _ I should probably leave,  _ he thought, glancing towards the open door.

“Um…” Shuichi began, wiping one eye with his sleeve. “Thanks for, uh… sitting with me,” he said softly.

Kokichi looked back at him, confused. What? As their arms pressed together, he didn’t move, instead wondering why Shuichi would even say something like that.  _ I just made him cry. Why is he thanking me? _

__ “Hm?” he asked, partly to himself.

“It was just… it was sort of lonely, so… thanks for coming in here, I guess. Sorry if — if that’s weird.” Shuichi kept his head down.

“It’s not weird!” Kokichi insisted, growing flustered. Barely anyone had ever tolerated his presence before, much less enjoyed it or even thanked him for it. He relaxed his posture, his and Shuichi’s bodies pressed together on the single piano bench. Kokichi noticed that there was plenty of room on either side for both of them to move away, but neither did. It was pretty comfortable this way.

A strange noise distracted Kokichi from his confusing inner dialogue. Shuichi’s stomach was growling,

“Are you hungry?” Kokichi chuckled.

Shuichi looked down at his stomach, as if he needed to visually confirm. “Oh, yeah, I guess… I haven’t eaten today. I was too worried.”

“Well, that’s no good.” Kokichi stood up and extended a hand towards Shuichi. “Come on! You’ll feel better afterwards.”

He was used to taking care of people, in a way — making sure they ate and were feeling well. The members of his secret evil organization couldn’t perform well if they were tired, hungry or stressed, could they? He was the leader, after all. He felt similarly towards Shuichi as he did to them, though he still didn’t know why. 

With a weak chuckle, Shuichi lightly took Kokichi’s hand and stiffly stood up. As Kokichi softly tugged him out of the room, Shuichi halted, taking one last lingering look at the piano.

“We can come back,” Kokichi said as he noticed. “We should eat first, though.”

Shuichi nodded, his loose grip on Kokichi’s hand tightening slightly. “Right.”

Reaching up and lifting the brim of his hat, he let Kokichi lead him away.


End file.
